


A defect of the human body

by Prim_the_Amazing



Series: stars stripes and teeth [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Venom AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: So boners are… agoodthing, then?he asks with a sinking feeling.Steve’s lips twitch with amusement. “Yeah, they’re generally considered to be a ‘good thing’. But I’m fine with not having them if I can’t. I hadn’t even realized until now that they weren’t happening! I guess I just feel kind of silly for not noticing--”I am sorry, Steve,Winter rushes to say, worry-guilt-confusion rising in him.I didn’t know that youwantedto have them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: stars stripes and teeth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559623
Comments: 44
Kudos: 465
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	A defect of the human body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



“... Winter?” Steve asks one night. He’s lying in the bed of their Brooklyn apartment, and Winter had felt that he’d been on the verge of falling asleep, when a strong feeling of _hey wait a minute_ had abruptly made him very awake instead. It doesn’t feel anything like adrenaline, so Winter doesn’t well up from Steve’s skin and surround him in black armor. 

_?_ Winter says. The great thing about speaking inside of someone’s head is that you don’t actually have to use words. Winter’s a big fan. 

“I just realized,” Steve says, and then stops, clearly floundering for words. He feels weirdly hot and uncomfortable. It’s an unusual and rare feeling from Steve, so it takes him a long moment to realize that it’s… _embarrassment._

Okay, Winter’s curious now. 

_Realized what,_ he prompts. 

“Okay, so, I just realized,” he says, and he’s smiling in that way that Winter recognizes as a human trying to defuse something tense or awkward, “I haven’t… been erect? Aroused? For a few years now. Ever since I got you, actually. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before now, but I don’t think I’ve had a single boner since the 1920s.” 

Winter doesn’t really understand what Steve’s talking about right now, but it’s not the first time. He just delves a little deeper into his mind than usual, past the surface thoughts, to see the images that he connotes with the words ‘boner’ and ‘erect’ in this situation. 

Oh, that. 

_“Argh,”_ Steve says, hand covering his eyes as his face goes hot. He can tell when Winter does that, the context-images rising to the top of his mind as Winter observes them. “Don’t judge me, I was a teenager.” 

_I would never judge you for your defects,_ Winter says kindly. _You were only human, until you had me._

 _“Defects,”_ Steve repeats incredulously. “I-- okay, no. I appreciate the sentiment, Win, it’s, it’s sweet? But it’s. Supposed. To do that.” 

_… Your penis is_ supposed _to go stiff, impairing your judgement by diverting part of your blood flow to this seemingly meaningless function._

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid,” Steve huffs. 

_That’s because it is._

“It isn’t stupid. Look, I was one hundred percent human for the first two decades of my life, and I’m still technically human now. I know what I’m talking about here. My… _penis…_ is supposed to do that sometimes, yes.” 

_Are you_ sure? Winter asks skeptically. 

_“Very_ sure. And I guess I was so caught up in the whole ‘fighting Nazis in World War Two, getting frozen, and then fighting Nazis again in the future’ thing that it kind of… slipped my mind, I guess. But I just realized that I haven’t-- it hasn’t-- not even once, since I got you. Is that… is that a side effect, do you think? It’s, it’s okay if it is! You’re more than worth a lifetime’s worth of boners, Win. I just… wanted to talk about it, I guess.” 

_So boners are… a_ good _thing, then?_ he asks with a sinking feeling. 

Steve’s lips twitch with amusement. “Yeah, they’re generally considered to be a ‘good thing’. But I’m fine with not having them if I can’t. I hadn’t even realized until now that they weren’t happening! I guess I just feel kind of silly for not noticing--” 

_I am sorry, Steve,_ Winter rushes to say, worry-guilt-confusion rising in him. _I didn’t know that you_ wanted _to have them._

Steve frowns. “Oh, no, Winter, don’t feel bad. Shit, that’s not what I wanted to do. It’s really not a big deal--” 

_No, you don’t understand,_ he interrupts. Steve actually stops to listen. _I thought they were a glitch._

“... A glitch?” Steve asks hesitantly. 

_A defect of the human body. I’ve never been in any human but you, and your body was very broken when I first entered it. I thought that it was just another one of your ailments, like asthma or aging. So I fixed it._

“Oh my god,” Steve says after a long moment, and then he pushes his face into his pillow to muffle his laughter so that it won’t wake the neighbours, shoulders shaking. 

Well, that’s definitely not the worst possible reaction. Winter keeps thinking that he’s finally learned to understand humans, and they’ll stop surprising or baffling him now. And then he learns that boners are a good thing and Steve has a laughing fit over discovering that Winter has been sabotaging one of his biological functions for almost a decade. 

“You’ve been chemically castrating me because I didn’t give you the sex talk…!” he wheezes, tears in his eyes. “Oh my fucking god.” 

_Well, it doesn’t make any sense,_ he says perhaps a touch defensively. _It doesn’t protect, enhance, fuel, or serve you in any way. All it seems to do is distract you. Why would you want that?_

“I-- wait, wait,” Steve takes a deep breath, trying to sober himself. “Did you just say that one of my ailments was _aging?”_

_Yes, and I cured you of it,_ he says with matter of fact pride. This pride is momentarily dampened by sudden doubt. _Unless… that’s also a good thing?_

He doesn’t see how it could possibly be so, but he was just surprised by boners, so. Anything could be possible. 

“Jesus Christ. I’m _not_ opening that can of worms ten minutes after midnight during a conversation about boners. We can talk about aging later.” 

Winter is a little bit relieved to only have to tackle one issue at a time. _Why would you want to have a boner,_ he asks again. 

“Well, because it feels good,” he says simply. 

_… That’s all it’s for?_

“Yeah.” 

_What, it doesn’t do_ anything? _You have an entire biological function just to ‘feel good?’_

“Well,” he amends. “In practice all it does is make me feel good, but that’s really more of a side effect to try and get me to do it more. Arousal is supposed to make me want to go and, uh, mate? With someone with a uterus, which makes them pregnant, and that’s how we propagate our species, basically. Except I don’t want to make babies, so yeah I just use it to feel good.” 

_Humans are ridiculous,_ Winter says. _My biology just makes me do what I have to do to survive by simply killing me if I don’t do it. That’s incentive enough._

“That’d definitely make sex feel more urgent,” Steve concedes. 

Thoughtfully, Winter curls possessively through Steve’s familiar vein system. _So you want to feel arousal again, then?_

“Um, ye-- yeah, that’d be really great, actually. Is that possible, or did you just kind of hit the self destruct button on my libido?” 

_It’s possible. All I ever did was block the chemicals so that they had no perceivable effect on you._

“Neat-- _oh,”_ Steve says, jolting in his bed like someone’s shocked him with live wires, muscles contracting, mattress squealing with his weight. _“Oh my god.”_

Winter would be alarmed, except this is apparently supposed to happen, and is a good thing. He encourages the hormones to flow, kickstarting Steve who had been feeling sleepy and calm and amused until now into something far more lively. 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t mean _now_ all at once,” Steve croaks. 

_What_ did _you mean?_

“I meant like-- like I’d just start to be able to have erections again-- Christ, oh Jesus, it’s been so fucking long. This is kind of a _lot._ More than I remembered.” 

_I’m not sure if I can do that,_ Winter muses. _Your body is reacting as if you’ve been ignoring your urges for a few years now… because you have been, with my help. Sorry._

“It’s-- it’s okay, Win,” Steve says, voice shaky, petting at his own chest. He does that sometimes, touches himself when he means that he’s touching Winter. There’s usually something fond or soothing to the touch. It feels different, now. More pressing. Urgent. 

_So far, I’m not seeing the appeal of this yet,_ he says as Steve writhes helplessly underneath the sheets. His cock brushes against the sheets and Steve hisses curses to himself, eyes clenching shut with overstimulated sensation. It almost feels like pain, except a step to the left. Winter keeps feeling like he should step in, take the overwhelming feelings away to protect Steve. Except this is a good thing, he’d said. He _wants_ this. 

Humans are so strange. 

“It’s, hah, it’s _good,”_ Steve says, feeling as scattered and dazed as he does after a good hit to the head. “I just have to-- touch myself,” he gasps. His skin feels overheated, he’s sweating. He feels like he’s experiencing some sort of medical emergency, like a heart attack or a seizure. Steve’s hand brushes down his chest, and when his fingers brush past his nipples he twitches again, a moan spilling out of his mouth that he hurriedly muffles with his own hand. _“Fuck.”_

 _Are you sure don’t need help?_ Winter asks, trying to tamp down on his own concern. He can’t stop himself from suspecting that this isn’t how this is supposed to go. Steve isn’t calm at _all._

“Maybe-- maybe, yes, help,” Steve pants. “This is-- too much. Help? Touch me.” 

_Don’t take it away?_

_“No,”_ he says fervently. 

_Okay._

Winter can take full control of Steve’s body at any time, whenever he might wish to do so. He merely doesn’t, because he doesn’t really wish to do so. He takes over the controls for a few moments whenever Steve’s reflexes aren’t quite enough to dodge something in time, but that’s a rare occurrence. He remembers a time when he didn’t hesitate to take over every single one of his hosts nerves and muscles and ligaments. When he didn’t let them go until they started falling apart on him, and he needed to go and find a new host. 

It’s much better, sliding his control in where it’s wanted, welcomed. It’s smoother, easier. Not a constant battle. He takes Steve’s hands, his arms. They steady, and instead of light, shaky, distracted touches, they slide their way firmly down Steve’s skin. Steve swears, throws his head back into the pillow. Steve’s skin feels hot, and he can feel him already beginning to sweat. His heart is thundering like it’s about to give out on him. Everywhere his hands (Winter’s hands, now) brush past, the nerves react like something more significant than a simple touch has happened. It’s… sort of fascinating. Definitely interesting, in an absolutely baffling sort of way. 

_Do you really like this?_ he asks, and isn’t quite sure why. Steve has expressed that he does, in fact, like this. He just did. There’s no reason for him to have changed his mind already. 

“Yes,” he pants, writhing around Winter’s stroking, petting hands. He’s circling one thumb on the jut of Steve’s hip, digging it in, firm and dragging. The other is brushing very lightly over his inner thigh, and Steve makes a ragged noise at the alternating pressures. His legs spread wider like he can’t help it. 

It’s just _interesting._

Steve’s hips keep helplessly twitching upwards, even though there’s nothing for his cock to even brush up against now that his sheets have slid down to bunch up around his calves, his feet. He keens with thwarted, needy frustration, twisting against the bed like there’s restless snakes writhing underneath his skin, demanding that he moves. 

“Win,” he says. Begs. “Could, could you, please. Come on.” 

_This?_

Steve’s surface thoughts are utterly scattered, like he’s just woken up or received a hit to the head. Winter can’t read him as well as he usually does, right now. But he thinks he knows what Steve wants. The hand that he’s had petting Steve’s inner thigh, he makes it slide up and over to his cock, gripping him at the root with a solid but careful grip. Steve makes a breathless noise like someone just gutpunched him, got him right in the solar plexus. His next helpless thrust upwards isn’t some little twitch, but something that Winter has to pin down with his other hand on Steve’s hip, something that makes Steve bounce a little on the mattress. 

“Ohfuck,” Steve swears. 

_You like?_ He knows that he likes it. Why is he asking? 

“Yes yes yes yes,” Steve says. “I really, really like it. Please, more--” 

Winter squeezes Steve’s hand around his dick, and slowly strokes it upwards towards the tip. A long breath of air is pulled out from Steve’s lips in time with the motion of his hand, like there’s a direct line from his cock to his lungs. Fascinating. 

There’s slickness beading at the head of Steve’s dick. He circles it, smooths it down on his cock, and Steve pants and swears and thrusts up into his own hand eagerly as Winter, spurred on by a brief flash memory from Steve in his younger years before he met him, rakes Steve’s nails up his outer thigh, leaving faint, raised lines. Steve _shouts,_ and thrusts so hard that the mattress groans on the rebound. 

_Like?_ Winter asks hungrily. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, voice ragged with want. “Yeah yeah yeah, keep doing that, fuck.” 

Winter digs Steve’s free hand into his hip so hard that it’ll bruise tomorrow, if Steve wants for Winter to let it stay bruised. He tightens his fist around Steve’s cock and pumps it. He _likes_ it when Steve says that he likes it, so earnestly, so rawly. He doesn’t exactly _get_ this sex thing that’s making Steve breathe like he’s got asthma and burn up like he’s got fever and think like he’s concussed and move like he can’t control the parts of his body that Winter hasn’t taken over for him, but he _really likes_ making Steve happy, making him feel good. 

Maybe Steve picks up on that, because he won’t stop chanting, “Yes yes yes more fuck yes faster _yes.”_

He squeezes and strokes and Steve says rushed happy words that don’t even really make sense and thrusts into Winter’s hand and every single muscle in his pelvis, his stomach locks up like he’s about to go into a seizure as the hormones swirling around in his head and making thinking difficult for him reaches a peak, a crescendo, a new height, utterly overwhelming Steve’s senses and is this right, is this what’s supposed to happen? Steve doesn’t feel alarmed, but he’s feeling a _lot_ right now--

A viscous liquid comes spurting out of the tip of Steve’s cock, coating the tight, careful, stroking fist that Winter is still pumping. A broken cry leaves Steve, and Winter freezes because _did he just break something?_

Steve collapses down onto his bed, every locked, frozen muscle going abruptly limp. He’s so sweaty that his fringe is clinging to his forehead. He feels overheated, his chest rising and falling as he gulps in air. 

_Steve?_ he asks, concerned now instead of prodding for a known answer that thrills him. 

“Jesus,” Steve slurs, eyes closed and shut. 

_I’m not Jesus,_ he says, growing worried. 

Steve drunkenly laughs. “I, I know, Win. Wow. Holy shit, that was the most intense orgasm I’ve had in… a hundred years. More than that, really. Of my life. Orgasm denial really does work, huh?” 

Winter pets at Steve’s chest, smooths his hair away from his face. _It was good,_ he checks. 

“So good,” he mumbles, eyes slitting open in satisfaction. Winter lets himself bubble up to the surface of Steve’s skin, enveloping his chest and his collarbone in something like a hug, dripping down the sides of his ribs. Steve crosses his arms over him, returning the gesture. 

Winter ripples with satisfaction. _Good. It was supposed to do that?_

“Yup,” he says, popping the P. 

_Humans are very strange, Steve._

“Yeah, yeah. I know, hon.” Steve keeps running his fingers through the black threaded with silver goo that is Winter’s exposed form, fond as petting a cat. Winter clings to each passing fingertip for a moment after it leaves. 

_Will you go back to normal, soon?_

“Yeah. Don’t worry. It’s just afterglow. ‘S real good.” 

_Your body is shutting down. It was so active just before, but it desperately wants to fall asleep now._

“Like an adrenaline crash. Yeah. Good for falling asleep.” 

_Interesting._

Steve humms, sleepy and satisfied, fingers buried into the wet-but-not-wet texture of Winter’s form. He’ll sink back into Steve as soon as he’s unconscious, he thinks. Settle him into a more comfortable position. Tug the sheets back over him. Steve’s breathing is already evening out into something more normal. 

Something seems to just barely stop him from falling asleep though. Like his sudden realization that he hadn’t had an erection for years, not so long ago. Winter isn’t sure if he can take two biological surprises in one night. 

“Win… did _you_ like it?” he asks. 

_Oh,_ Winter says, and he is _fond_ for this man, this host, this person. He is a good one. He is a good Steve, and Winter will take care of him and cherish and keep him for forever and ever. _Yes, Steve, I liked it._

“That’s good to hear,” he says, voice quiet and drowsy, a last few muscles in his back going loose and pliant at the reassurance. 

Yes, Winter supposes that it _is_ good to hear. He likes to hear it from Steve’s own mouth very much. 

Steve falls asleep like a light going out after that, and Winter starts to see how this arousal thing might be a useful thing after all.


End file.
